


made for you

by Galaxias



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Marriage Proposal, Rings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:33:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22206421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galaxias/pseuds/Galaxias
Summary: The perfect ring wasn’t for sale. So it was time for Hilda to take things into her own hands.—A Secret Santa gift for my dear friend Lara. Merry (Belated) Christmas!
Relationships: Marianne von Edmund/Hilda Valentine Goneril
Comments: 8
Kudos: 44





	made for you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lara (@obamitsuu)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Lara+%28%40obamitsuu%29).



> Every year my friends and I do a homemade Secret Santa exchange, and this year I ended up with my friend Lara (@obamitsuu on Twitter), who adores Marianne/Hilda. It was a treat to write these adorable ladies — enjoy the cheese! ;) I think that just might be my brand at this point.

“Too gaudy...too simple... _so_ last decade...and what did I say about red?”

The jeweller nervously fiddled with his mustache under his customer’s disapproving gaze. “Quite. My apologies, Madam.” He set the plush velvet display back underneath the glass countertop, alongside the dozens of other rings for sale — dozens that this very particular young woman had similarly rejected. Her demands were seemingly impossible! Classic yet stylish, understated yet beautiful, a masterfully cut gem, not too big and not too small... Every ring he pulled out earned a pout of those glossy pink lips.

“I can see why your fiancé had such a hard time picking the ring himself,” he said with a chuckle. 

“Huh? Oh, yeah,” the woman said, as if she had almost been confused by his statement. “He’s _soooooo_ bad with this kind of girly stuff.” She sighed. “So you really don’t have anything like what I described? Like, at all?”

“I’m afraid we don’t seem to have the perfect ring for you, Madam.” Immediately, he regretted saying that — even if this woman was impossible to please, he still wanted the sale. “Perhaps you could try lowering...ah, changing your expectations a little?”

“Are you _kidding_ me?!” The customer slammed her gloved hands down on the countertop, bubblegum hair spilling over her shoulders. “Her ring has to be perfect! I’ll accept no less!”

“Whose...ring, Madam?”

“What? I mean, mine! My ring!” 

This was going nowhere fast. Evidently this sale wasn’t worth the trouble. “I apologize, but it seems we do not have the ring for you. In fact, I wager not a jeweller in this city could meet your expectations if my fine array is not to your tastes.” The jeweller shook his head. “If you’re so picky, you may as well make the ring yourself. Ha!”

He had expected another angry outburst in response, but instead the woman’s immaculately made-up eyes opened wide, as if she’d realized something. “Oh. Oh, you’re a _genius_ , Jewellery Man.” 

“What? You don’t intend to actually make one? I’ll have you know my craft is not so simple —”

“Aw, shut it. Hey, sorry for taking up so much of your time, though.” She cocked her head. “Ummm, actually, can I try on those bangles in the bottom-left? They’re pretty cute…”

***

It was a convenient lie, that she was shopping for her own engagement ring in the place of a clueless male. Hilda didn’t want to face the inevitable dumbfounded reactions: ‘The Crest-bearing Goneril daughter, marrying the cursed Marianne von Edmund instead of a carefully-selected suitor? Preposterous!’

_Blah-blah-blah_. It didn’t actually bother her — not when her girlfriend was such a total catch. But she also hated answering a billion stupid questions from gross men (ie. most of them), so she lied to avoid the trouble of it all while she was simply trying to do a little accessory shopping. The priority was to drop some _major_ gold on the perfect ring, not to convince stupid old guys that she could make her own life decisions.

Except the perfect ring wasn’t for sale. So it was time for Hilda to take things into her own hands.

It couldn’t be _exceptionally_ hard, she figured. She had made necklaces and bracelets before. Nothing quite so fine, nothing that required such precise metalwork — but that was just it, wasn’t it? It was merely a ring. A tiny piece of jewellery. Compared to the statement necklaces she’d crafted before out of thin sheets of iron and copper, molded to the curve of a human neck…

How hard could it be?

***

“Oh, Goddess — **FUCK!** ”

Ring-making was, in fact, hard.

Hilda hissed through her teeth and sucked on her harshly pinched thumb, redness spreading under her skin as it throbbed with hot pain. She was _so close_ to completion now...on attempt number three.

First she had burnt her hand on each separate attempt at heating and molding the base ring of fine sterling silver. It had to be Marianne’s exact size, of course (a 5 — so tiny!) and had to match the perfect circular shape of the wooden guide she’d sawed out (also not without injury), and that meant a _lot_ of very precise pushing and pulling far too close to the hot metal. And of course, the metal had to be filed to a soft curve all around, lest it cut into Marianne’s skin. Hilda’s palms were raw and stinging before she realized that she could be wearing gloves for this particular step. _Okay, that one was on me._

Then it came time to insert holes for each of the tiny inlaid crystals circling the band, which gave her wrists an awful cramp as she spun the drill round and round. She could only pray that someday humanity would invent a less tiring solution. Even Hilda’s powerful arms, trained to wield the largest war axes, were aching under the repeated movement. And she had to drill _so many!_ But she thought of how each individual crystal would wink under the light, delicate as Marianne’s gentle smile, and let that fuel her work.

Soldering those crystals in place was another wonderful opportunity for burns — her hands were quite heavily bandaged at this point — because the gloves simply didn’t allow the dexterity she needed for such a delicate task. That was also where had managed to pinch her thumb with pliers when trying to pick up the final crystal. But at _last_ , Hilda was ready for the final task: adding the _pièce de résistance,_ the centrepiece of the whole stupid ring.

She took a deep breath and dropped the half-rose-cut sapphire in place, silently praying that this one would turn out alright. This gem had _not_ been cheap to acquire, not with such a clear blue colour and fine cut, but when Hilda had seen it, she couldn’t resist — not when she knew it would perfectly complement the clothing Marianne liked to wear, and when it reminded Hilda so much of Marianne herself. But if she messed up this step, by the Goddess, she was _screwed_. She had already blown her budget re-purchasing those damn crystals when she botched the second attempt.

But she gently bent and squeezed the four tendrils of silver around the stone’s edges, and filed them each to a rounded point, and...that was it. The ring was done. _It was done_. And it was everything she had wanted for her girlfriend — with any luck, her _fiancée_.

Hilda looked down at her hands. They were scraped and pinched and burnt and bandaged and calloused, almost more than they had been in the war. And she laughed.

How fitting it was that tomorrow, she would propose to the only woman in the world who could make her work this hard.

***

It had hurt to even grip her horse’s reins on the trip to the Edmund estate, but Hilda couldn’t wait another day to show Marianne what she had made — and to propose, of course, but Hilda would be lying if she weren’t damn proud of the ring and wanted to see it on a pretty girl’s finger, _like, ASAP_. Marianne had insisted they have tea first before Hilda showed her the “super-cute accessory she made,” but now the cups were drained, and beneath her gloves, Hilda’s palms were unexpectedly sweaty. She was... _nervous_ , actually. 

Hilda Valentine Goneril, nervous? She could scarcely believe it herself.

“Um, so, you said you wanted to show me something…?” Marianne smiled and flushed gently as she stacked the floral-printed saucers and snack plates into a neat pile on the redwood coffee table.

“Yeah! Ahah...hah. Uh.” Hilda gulped and stood, and Marianne tilted her head curiously, still crouched by the low table. “It’s for you, actually. And you have to be standing, so.”

“Oh!” Marianne clasped her hands together and rose, the flush on her cheeks deepening. “Thank you, Hilda! You know I so love the things you make for me…” She glanced around. “Um, is it an anklet? Why must I be standing?”

“I didn’t make you an anklet,” Hilda said. The drawing room swam around her, and her heart was crawling up her throat, but she mustered the courage to shakily sink to one knee and grab Marianne’s left hand. Marianne’s face was a full, blooming scarlet now, and her eyes widened tentatively, shining with fresh tears as if realizing something, yet not daring to let herself believe it —

_Believe it, babe,_ Hilda thought. _You’re worth this._

Hilda met Marianne’s eyes, and she smiled and said, “I made you a ring.” 

She slipped the silver and sapphire ring from her pocket, and for a moment, all that could be heard in the Edmund estate’s drawing room was the steady ticking of the grandfather clock. Hilda almost had time to be scared. 

But then Marianne burst into sobs and collapsed to her knees.

“ _Hi—il—da—a—a_ ,” she heaved, wiping at her eyes with her capelet, “you’re...are you...pro—pro—” She couldn’t finish her sentence, hiccuping instead.

“I’m proposing,” Hilda said, reaching up a hand to stroke Marianne’s short, choppy bangs away from her forehead. “Will you marry me? Please say yes, ‘cause this ring took _forever_ to make.”

“ _Yes!_ I—oh!” Marianne heaved, and even though Hilda was fairly confident she would get the answer she wanted, she still let out a sigh and folded her arms around Marianne in relief. “But—are you sure you...want to marry...”

“ _AH-ah!_ None of that, babe!” Hilda drew back and gave Marianne a serious look — as serious as she could muster, anyway, when her heart had never felt so light. “I chose you, and you know that, and I don’t give a shit about your stupid curse, ‘cause you’ve never made me feel anything but lucky. So marry me, and we’ll be the hottest wives in the whole Alliance!” 

Marianne giggled and nodded, calming down a bit now, though her mouth still wobbled and her hands still shook. So Hilda kissed her, hard and deep, as if to tell her there were no doubts, no regrets, in a way that words simply couldn’t. Marianne’s lips relaxed and spread to meet Hilda’s just as they had a thousand wonderful times before, and Hilda somehow knew that meant, _okay, I believe you._

Hilda then realized that Marianne still hadn’t put on the ring and gently pulled back. “Stick out your hand,” she said, and Marianne nodded and lifted her delicate fingers toward Hilda. She grasped her girlfriend — no, _fiancée’s_ hand and slid on the ring.

A perfect fit. Hilda chuckled to herself. All her efforts were worth it. The ring was perfect.

Marianne, wearing Hilda’s ring, was _perfect._

**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully I got all the ringmaking steps right cause I learned it all from Youtube
> 
> Find me on Twitter @whionavocet for fandom RTs and @opalstarlight for my games, art, and writing!


End file.
